Her attention was caught by a movement in the courtyard. It was probably just one of the men assigned night guard duty, but the way the man skirted the edge of the courtyard as if he did not want to be seen, looked suspicious. When the moonlight caught his fair hair, she knew who it was.
Where was Lachlan going this time of night? He was always disappearing. This time, she intended to find out why.
She ran down the stairs and crossed the hall on quiet feet amid the snoring men. After slipping through the outer door, she stood at the top of the steps of the keep searching the dark for him. He was skulking next to the wall, halfway to the gate. Holding her nightshift up with one hand and her plaid around her shoulders with the other, she raced across the courtyard.
Just as she caught up to him, he spun around.
"By the saints, Ilysa!" Lachlan said in a harsh whisper and put his dirk away. "Ye don't sneak up on a warrior in the dark. What in the hell are ye doing out here?"
"You're the one sneaking about," Ilysa whispered back. "Where are ye going?"
"Nowhere," he said, leaning close and keeping his voice low. "I just came in, not that it's any of your business."
"Then where have ye been?" she asked. "If ye won't tell me, perhaps you'll be willing to tell the chieftain."
She could feel Lachlan's eyes boring holes into her through the darkness as the silence stretched between them.
"If ye can keep a secret," he said at last, "I have a confession to make."
"So long as it doesn't endanger anyone else, I'll keep your secret," she promised. "I've been waiting for ye to tell me what it is from the first day."
Lachlan glanced about, she assumed to make sure that none of the guards on the wall was close enough to overhear.
"You were right about Connor," Lachlan said. "He is a man worth serving."
Ilysa's shoulders relaxed. All along she had felt that Lachlan was good at his core and hoped his attitude toward Connor would change. But since he had not said anything yet that could be deemed a confession, she waited for the rest.
"You were right about me, too," he said. "I was a threat to him."
She touched his arm. "What have ye done, Lachlan?"
"'Tis best ye don't know," he said. "But ye can trust me to mind Connor's back from now on."
She believed him. "I'm glad."
"There is someone in the castle ye can't trust, someone who is spying for Hugh Dubh," he said. "I'm trying to find out who it is."
* * *
Connor awoke in a sweat with a throbbing erection. Ilysa haunted his dreams, robbing him of his sleep and peace of mind. Despite his efforts to overcome his desire for her, he wanted to touch every inch of her bare skin, to see her naked above him, and to feel the friction of her breasts against his chest. Most of all, he longed to be inside her and hear her soft moans of pleasure in his ear.
He gave up on sleep and went to his window. From habit, he looked for the outline of the guards on the wall to be sure none were asleep. They weren't. Before turning away, he glanced around the courtyard. He started when he saw Ilysa in the far corner with a man. What was she doing outside in the middle of the night?
And who in the hell is she with?
In the moonlight, he could not be absolutely certain who the man was. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and fair-haired. The only man who came to mind was Lachlan of Lealt.
Jealousy, like an ugly green sea monster from the deep, sank its teeth into him and pulled him under. What is she doing with Lachlan? The question blazed in his head. No woman had ever aroused jealousy in him before, but the feeling was as unmistakable as it was unfamiliar.
Connor had no right to object if Ilysa turned her attentions to another man. Bedding her once had been a mistake that could never happen again. She was not his and could not be. More, it was his duty to find a man to look after her. Lachlan would make a good husband, if a lass did not require much conversation. He had both the courage and the fighting skills to protect a wife and family. In truth, Connor could think of